It's A Witches World
by Chaimera
Summary: As a rule of thumb, it's never good when goblins start quoting Shakespeare.
1. Come You Spirits

**_Disclaimer_: Labyrinth doesn't belong to me. Any Goblin names or practices mentioned are taken from _The Goblin Companion_ by Brian Froud and Terry Jones.**

**_Authors Note_: Gosh folks, it has been a while, hasn't it? It's nice to be back. This isn't my usual shtick to be honest. It almost borders on crack!fic but I hope you have as much fun reading asI did writing. **

**I'd also like to add, that if anyone reading is a Wiccan, there's no offense intended. 'Tis all in the name of fun. **

**It's A Wiccan World**

_**By Chaimera**_

**Come You Sprits...**

Lightening briefly illuminated the small room and a cold winter wind that blew outside, causing the old house to moan. Another flash, another moan and the sound of several pairs of small feet skittering across the wooden floor, towards Sarah's location, curled up in an arm chair, alternately watching the rain pound down outside and reading a book. Small hands tugged on her trouser leg and she looked down kindly at three goblins, whose eyes were as round as saucers. Sarah giggled and lifted the smallest of the three on to the arm of her chair.

"Honestly, you'd think with what you lot do; a little rain and thunder wouldn't scare you? It certainly doesn't when you take a child."

The tiny creature clung to her arm as Sarah hoisted up the other two and set them on the side table next to her. They also scurried up the arm of the chair, one curling into a ball on her shoulder, the other dumping itself in her lap, quite ungraciously she noted. The one in her lap looked up at her, large eyes shining with fear.

"'S not the storm Lady, it's the ladies."

Sarah frowned in confusion. "The ladies…? Oh, you mean Christy and her friends. Ignore them, they don't know what they're doing."

Sarah was referring to her house mate and her coven of 'witches'. They gathered in the living room every week to chant, cast spells, and generally burn things that Sarah thought made the house smell disgusting. It was, Sarah had concluded some time ago, the worst thing about being broke; being forced to share a home with a bunch of complete strangers. Now, to be fair to her other three housemates, they were perfectly sane, rational human beings. Christie on the other hand...

"Speaking of the Wicked Witch of Wisconsin, have you guys been stealing her jewellery and hiding her keys? Because she's threatening a room by room search if they keep going missing."

Another wail echoed up from the living room and the goblin in her lap pulled its rusted helmet down over its eyes and pressed into her side. The one still clinging to her arm (making it difficult to turn the pages of her book or more importantly, reach the glass of wine on the side table) shook its head vigorously.

"Ladies can't be trusted with the shiny shiny."

"...Right. And her keys?"

The goblin on her shoulder sniffed in a rather self important manner. "We mays or mays not have temporarily relocated the means of transportations for the mosts worrisome of ladies."

"It's being for the good of Goblin kind!"

The words were rather muffled but Sarah was fairly sure that's what was said as the goblin continued his attempts to burrow into her sweater.

"You know what? I really don't want to know."

Sarah rearranged the creatures slightly and took a sip of wine before returning to her book. After a while, despite the thunder, lighting and occasional wail or chant the three of them seemed to have drifted off. She smiled slightly as muffled snoring reached her ears and turned the page. She was just getting to the best part...

"Don't let them grind my horns!"

Sarah jumped at the deep voice which sounded from her closet, causing the three sleeping goblins to tumble to the floor, all landing in a heap before brandishing their tiny weapons and spinning around to find the threat.

"I'll stick you through!"

"I'll let none of ye near my beer!"

"Mummy!"

Sarah looked down at them and raised an eyebrow when, as they realized they were not under attack, looked at each other in puzzlement before sitting down on the spot and passing around what appeared to be the goblin equivalent a hip flask.

She sighed and began to cautiously approach the closet where the voice had come from. She could hear a sort of soft clacking coming from inside.

Grabbing the nearest heavy object (a rather large dictionary), she raised her arm and pulled the door open. There, peeking out from between her winter coat and a rather expensive silk dress was a very large and very familiar goblin. His teeth were chattering and he looked up at her pleadingly.

Sarah put her hand on her hip and pointed at the rest of the goblins, who were now brandishing small, sharp pointy sticks at each other and she hoped to God that they weren't going to try knitting again.

"Røem, get out here."

The large goblin (at his full height he stood level to her waist) lumbered out and dumped himself at the foot of her armchair. Røem Bååbå was one of the first goblins she ever encountered. Not that she knew it at the time as she had been trying to calm her hysterical baby brother and he had been hiding in a pile of stuffed toys. He was now a regular visitor to her room (though God knows why) along with a small parade of several other goblins who had taken a liking to the girl, now woman, who had beaten the man who regularly kicked them halfway across the Labyrinth.

Sarah leapt forward as the larger goblin also removed a small stick from his pocket and snatched them away.

"No! No knitting. Not here."

"Aww, but Lady..."

"Not ever. You know my rules and you've got to stick to them if you want to keep coming here. And that includes no stealing from my housemates."

"But..."

"No. I don't want to hear it. I will make sure you each get tied to a tree in the Bog if I hear anymore about crystals going missing or talismans going walkies by themselves. Got it?"

The four goblins gazed up at her with gazes as blank as a piece of granite... though, on refection, Sarah knew some pieces of granite that were quite more expressive, not to mention, talkative.

"Okay." She looked at Røem and crouched down beside him. "Why were you hiding in my closet?"

He fiddled with a loose bit of his armour, not wanting to make eye contact.

"They said... they said they needed powdered horn to complete their spell and who..." Here he gulped dramatically. "... Who has horns in Lady's house except for Røem?"

The last word came out rather high pitched as he suddenly clutched at her sweater and the other goblins scuttled to take shelter by her legs.

"Who? Christie?"

He nodded quickly. "Yeah. The other ladies with the smelly sticks."

"I hears they burn bits of goblins."

There was another wail from downstairs and several squeaks from around her. Sarah sighed and stood, running a hand through her hair.

"Alright. If I make the ladies stop, will you lot calm down or go home?"

There were nods and noises of agreement before they all piled on to the big arm chair and looked at her expectantly.

Sarah grumbled as she made her way downstairs. They were goblins for goodness sakes and here they were cowering, in the room of a broke writer, at some self-proclaimed wiccans who thought that a bit of rose quartz and some incense was magic. She had better things to be doing with her time.

She knocked on the door to the living room and opened it slightly, sticking her head inside. The stench of burning sage was enough to make her head spin as she blinked through the smokey haze. She was met by the gaze of ten women with enough eyeliner and white powder to do up the audience at a Kiss concert.

One of the girls who wasn't Christy (she had been introduced to Sarah as Topaz, but she had an inkling that wasn't her real name) stood and smiled, gesturing towards the circle.

"Welcome sister. Have you finally decided to join us? I knew when I first saw your aura that the aether had a strong draw to you. You are drawn to magick."

Sarah held back an eye roll and arranged her features in what she hoped was an apologetic face.

"Err, no. Look, I'm sorry to interrupt but, it's past midnight and I need to be up early in the morning..."

She trailed off, hoping they would get the point.

Christie gave her a dirty looks and piped up. "Yes, well, as anyone would know, the witching hour, that's midnight, is the most powerful time for us to do our casting so..."

She looked at Sarah in a triumphant manner before her face dropped when Topaz spoke up.

"Of course. We are truly sorry. What Moon says is correct but that time has now passed. We won't keep you up."

The strange woman surged forward in a whirl of chiffon and shawls, clutching Sarah's hands tightly.

"Oh. Okay, thanks. Em... Goodnight?"

"Blessed Be, my sister. Blessed Be."

Sarah smiled tightly, extracting her hands from the other woman's grip. "And you."

She fled back to her room faster than she thought she could, quickly shutting the door behind her. She leaned back against it and let out a whoosh of breath.

"Wow. That was weird. Even for me."

"And that's saying something, ain't it?"

Sarah jumped and then smiled, crossing the room to hug her diminutive friend. "Hoggle. What are you doing here?"

He gestured to the pile of snoring goblins on her chair. "I heard you was having a bit of an... infestation problem."

She grinned and rolled her eyes. "I don't know why they come here."

"You encourage them."

"I do not."

"You do."

"...Well, fine. They're harmless. Most of the time. I suppose the question is why did they _start _coming here?"

Hoggle shrugged and glancing at the pile of gnarled limbs in distain. "Apparently, they like you. Everyone does."

"They do not."

"Name one thing that does not like you?"

"Well, Moon-face down there, for one."

"Eh?"

She shook her head and yawned. "Oh, never mind. Are you going to take this lot back or what?"

"Oh right. Ahem..." He cleared his throat and then thumped the side of the chair while shouting "Rocks!"

"Rocks?"

"What?"

"Save yourselves!"

"Run away!"

The four goblins ran in all directions but eventually encountered a solid object, usually a wall, which stopped them in their tracks. Hoggle grabbed the closest one by the scruff of the neck and hauled him over.

"All right you lot. Come on. The king'll be mighty miffed to find out you've been spending all yer time 'ere."

The smallest goblin (Sarah thought his name might be Dogsthorpe, but she could never be sure) sniffed slightly and hugged Sarah's calf before trudging over to stand beside Hoggle. Røem was lumbering across the room when something about the size of a tennis ball detached from his body and began to hop around the room. Sarah knew, from unfortunate personal experience, that this happened to be the Worlds Biggest Flea also known as Betsy. She shuddered as she watched it hop over one of the other goblins (she would hazard a guess at Bubl... or possibly Sqeek) upon which Røem pulled some mouldy looking gold coins from his pocket and promptly stuffed them up the other goblins nose, who looked surprisingly pleased at this turn of events. A few seconds later, after a hasty wave from Hoggle, the room was empty save for Sarah. She glanced around before throwing herself down on her bed and gazing at the ceiling.

"That..." She said to no one. "...was disgusting."

**_A/N:_ Don't forget to feed the author below. **


	2. By the Pricking of My Thumbs

**_Disclaimer_: Labyrinth doesn't belong to me. Any Goblin names or practices mentioned are taken from _The Goblin Companion_ by Brian Froud and Terry Jones.**

**_Authors Note_: I love waking up to an inbox full of reviews. I'm glad you guys are enjoying it. Here's another chapter for you. Much shorter but I hope just as fun. **

**By the Pricking of My Thumbs...**

Sarah sat at her desk typing up her latest column. She sighed heavily, quickly glancing over her last paragraph which addressed the best way to attract a man using your eyes. It was for a fairly successful dating website but every time she wrote a piece like this she rather felt like she was selling a piece of her soul. She had been struggling to make it as a legitimate writer for several years now, ever since she had left university. She made her living off of freelance jobs, usual advice and comment columns and review pages but she was far from becoming what she'd always hoped she would be. A well respected journalist and fiction writer. There was a squeak and thunk and she glanced down at Dogsthorpe, who had entangled himself in several rubber bands and fallen into her desk tidy. She rubbed her temples and stared at the ceiling for a moment. So this was her life; writing dodgy advice columns and babysitting goblins. Carrie Bradshaw, she was not.

She picked up the tiny goblin and carefully helped him untangle his limbs from the elastic before setting him back on the desk.

"Why are you here again?"

He shrugged before grabbing a pencil stub and a scrap of paper. He frowned at it seriously before beginning to write. Or at least, that's what Sarah assumed he was trying to do. It all looked like sanskrit to her. She returned to her column, erasing a line about fake lashes and starting on a paragraph about the power of playing with your hair when a voice behind her made her jump.

"My Lady."

She spun around, her hand to her chest, and glared at the creature in front of her.

"Sir Diddymus. Don't do that."

"I am sorry my lady" The fox looked abashed as he removed his hand and bowed low. "I did not mean to startle you."

She dropped her glare and smiled, glad to see her friend. "That's all right. Just... give me a heads up next time, yeah?"

"A heads up, my lady?"

"Just let me know before you pop by."

"Oh, of course my lady. I am utterly ashamed at my lack of manners. My remorse knows no bounds. My..."

Sarah clamped a hand down on his muzzle before he built up too much speed. "Really, it's fine. Now, what can I do for you? Or is this just a social call?"

"I was rather wondering, my lady, if I may peruse your collection of literature. You see, his highness has closed of the castle to non-essential staff and I cannot access the library."

"Of course you can. Knock yourself out." She waved towards her book shelves as she turned back to her work.

"You are the very essence of kindness Lady Sarah."

A while later, Sarah wasn't sure how long, Sir Diddymus gave a surprised bark. "My Lady?"

"Mmm?" She was glaring at a particularly troublesome sentence.

"Why is there a goblin asleep on a copy of... "The Satanic Verses"?"

"What...? Oh, for goodness sakes."

She marched over to the shelf and hefted the small but weighty goblin off his perch. He didn't even wake, simply snored loudly and curled up when she deposited him at the end of her bed.

"If I've told them once I've told them a hundred time nap..."

"Somewhere you can sees up so you don't squish us."

Dogsthorpe grinned up at her, proud of himself as he finished her sentence. Sir Diddymus frowned up at her.

"May I enquire, my lady, why exactly are you letting goblins slumber in your bed chambers? It can hardly be proper."

Sarah slumped back into her chair and eyed the fox carefully. "They just, they won't leave. I mean, they've always popped by to visit and break things and generally be nuisance, but for some reason over the last few months there's always at least one of them around. All the time. I found that one..." She gestured to the snoring goblin on her quilt. "Hiding under the passenger seat of my car a few weeks back. I can't explain it and they won't stop so I've had to put down some ground rules."

Diddymus trotted over to her desk and glared up at the goblin who was still scribbling on scraps of paper.

"You there! You... Goblin. Explain why you are invading my lady's chambers in such a manner. If you do not provide a satisfactory answer I will be forced to eject all of you forthwith."

Dogsthorpe barely spared the fox a glance, concentrating intensely on his writing.

"Must make sure the ladies don't harm the Lady. Goblins keep watch."

Sarah rolled her eyes. "Or cower in fear. Hey, same difference, right?"

Dogsthorpe looked at Sarah and she was surprised to find his gaze very serious.

"The ladies are up to no good. You takes my word."

She couldn't quite find the words to answer the suddenly sincere creature. "I... eh... Ok?"

His little head suddenly whipped around to stare at the door. "By the pricking of my claws, something wicked this way paws."

She stared at him. "Did you just quote... You know what? Never mind."

Diddymus squinted at the goblin before heading back towards the bookcase and Sarah had just resettled herself in front of her laptop when the door swung open, hitting the wall with a loud bang. Her head shot around and standing in the door was a rather angry looking Christie. She was dressed head to toe in black and stormed into the room without invite.

"Where are they?"

Christie strode over to Sarah's dresser, looking closely at what was on top.

Sarah rolled her eyes and glared at Dogsthorpe who had frozen, looking exactly like one of her old stuffed toys.

"Please, do come in." She muttered before standing to follow the other woman. "Where is what Christie? I hope you have a good excuse for just barging in here."

Christie whirled around, glaring. "My crystals. My talismans. What else? More have gone missing and I know you have them."

"What? Why would I have them? I don't even believe in all that sh... stuff." She finished meekly as Christie fixed her with a look that could kill.

"I know you don't, but you hate it and you hate me and you're hiding them out of spite."

"Hiding...? Please. I'm not a child. I couldn't give a damn about your coven and your rituals."

"I don't believe you."

"Fine." Sarah swept her hand around the room. "Have a look then. You won't find anything. Just don't break anything."

Sarah settled in her chair and watched as the clearly deranged young woman searched her room. She finally came up empty handed and huffed towards the door, pausing by the desk to pin Sarah with condescending look.

"I know you have something to do with this. I'm sure of it. You're the one who's around the most."

"Believe what you want."

"I will." She glanced down at the desk and picked up the limp little goblin form. "At least I don't believe in goblins and ghouls. What rubbish."

She tossed Dogsthorpe over her shoulder and swept out of the room, slamming the door behind her. Sarah winced when the goblin hit the wall with a thunk and slid down to the ground. She hurried over and picked him up gently.

"Are you all right?"

He nodded, dazed and righted his tiny helmet. "Bad lady. No shiny shiny for her."

"She might be a bad lady, but what did I tell you about stealing her stuff?"

"It's for the good of..."

"Goblin kind. So you've said. That excuse won't last forever you know."

The goblin sniffed. " 'S not my fault it's true."

She turned to set him down and found Sir Diddymus eyeing the door with suspicion.

"I think, perhaps, my lady, that it is best if the goblins stay here for your safe guarding."

Sarah rolled her eyes. Her safety was the one in question here? Hers? Not the safety or rather, completely irrational fear of several fairytale creatures? What ever.

She collapsed into her arm chair, Dogsthorpe still in her arms and stared at the fox, who was still having a staring match with the door.

"So, what's got Jareth's tights in a twist this time anyway? Or is he just having a strop?"

"The last I heard my lady, he shouted at a visiting dignitary that he had the worst headache he's had in a century and shut the castle gates a week a go."

"He has a headache? Seriously?"

"It would seem so."

"Christ he's a girl."

"I thinks you will find, that the Goblin King is man."

She glanced down at the goblin in her lap and sighed. "Thank you for your input. Oh, Diddymus, where's Ambrosias?"

The fox put his nose in the air and sat back against the wall. "He stayed behind to guard my point of travel, less I be ambushed by goblin scoundrels upon my return."

Sarah smiled. "He doesn't like mirror travel, does he?"

"My steed is the most loyal and brave in the land."

Dogsthorpe snorted, Sir Diddymus growled and Sarah kept her thoughts to herself but rather agreed with the goblin on this particular point.

**A/N: Prove my self worth with a review. Go on. **


	3. Something Wicked

**_Disclaimer_: Labyrinth doesn't belong to me. Any Goblin names or practices mentioned are taken from _The Goblin Companion_ by Brian Froud and Terry Jones.**

**_Authors Note_: And another one. I'm glad you guys are enjoying it. **

**Something Wicked...**

Sarah was scheduled to be up early the following morning for a meeting. It was a very important meeting with a very important editor who could give her a very important job. More importantly, it would allow Sarah to move out of her draughty, old, over crowded house and into an apartment all of her own. This latter point was very important to Sarah because, once again, she was trying to sleep while a loud chant echoed up the stairs. She tossed under her covers, giving her pillow a punch for good measure. The chant was followed by an even louder wail and three lumpy, whimpering forms appeared on her bed, all simultaneously trying to burrow into her comforter. She growled at the ceiling. Enough was enough.

Sarah sat up and threw back the covers, dislodging more than a few goblins, who tumbled to the floor at her feet. She threw on her robe and marched towards the door but a small claw clinging to the hem of her robe stopped her. Her glare was met with big, concerned goblin eyes.

"Don't go down there Lady." The goblin shook it's head emphatically, causing it's armour to clank. "The ladies are meddling. Bad, bad meddling. Toil and trouble type meddling."

She shook him off. "Again with the Macbeth. Look, I need sleep and I cannot get that with you guys jumping all over me in the middle of the night because those morons feel the need to dance around my living room practicing their Mongolian throat singing."

And with that she was out the door. She was surprised to hear scuttling behind her as she made her way downstairs. It appeared at least one of her adopted goblins had found a shred of courage tonight.

She threw open the living room door, ready to take on anyone or anything that might continue to challenge her attempts at sleep but found the room empty. She shivered and looked across to where the door to the garden was wide open.

"For the love of... it's the middle of winter. It's snowing!" She strode across the room and shut the door. They'd be able to get back in once they were done howling at the moon or what ever it was they were risking hypothermia for. As she was heading back up stairs, the open book on the coffee table caught her eye and she paused. She leant down to look at it and gasped. There was more than a few words she recognized on the page. Before she knew it she was kneeling, leafing through the pages. The book was clearly from The Underground or at least, written by someone who had been there. She could see references to many people, events and powers that her friends had told her about since she had defeated the Labyrinth. They were words only those who had been there, or someone who had spoken to it's denizens would recognize, but she was sure. Her hand shot out and grabbed Sqeek, who had been hiding behind a chair leg, and dragged him up beside her.

"Is this what I think it is?"

He quickly scanned the pages and then slammed the book shut, looking at the cover. He suddenly began bouncing.

"Lady has found it!"

She looked at him, even more confused. "Found what? Is it a history book?"

Sqeek bounced some more. "Not history, no. Old, very old. And powerful. Stolen."

"What?"

The goblin opened his mouth to explain but a sound that resembled "Eep." came out before he disappeared behind the sofa.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?"

Sarah jumped up, looking more guilty that she felt she needed too and gave Christie a small wave.

"Um, sorry. Yeah, I have a big interview in the morning and..."

Christie ignored her and stomped over to the table. "Did you touch this? You did."

Sarah shrugged. "One of the pictures caught my eye and..."

"You idiot. Do you have any idea what you've done? You haven't been cleansed. We're going to have to start all over again and..."

"What? Oh, no way. I need sleep. Sleep, Christie! You can't keep making all this noise."

Christie crossed her arms and glared. "It's Moon. And it's my house too, you know."

"I know. And you can chant or howl or do what ever it is you do during business hours, not at two am."

"Look, I know you can't understand, but the moon is waxing and..."

"I don't care if it's doing a Goddamn strip tease, I still need to sleep."

Christie huffed and stepped a little too close for comfort. "You clearly have no comprehension of what..."

"I have no... Do you even know what that thing is?" Sarah gestured towards the book before her eyebrows shot up in realization. "Oh my god."

Christie was now the one to look utterly confused. "What are you talking abo... Oh."

Sarah grabbed her arms. "Christie... Moon... Whatever. Where did you find that book?"

"My Grimmorie? In a second hand bookshop down town."

"When?"

"What does it matter?"

Sarah shook the other woman. "When?"

"About three months ago. What do you care?"

Sarah wasn't really listening to her now, just staring down at the book with a slightly maniacal gleam in her eye.

"Any chance I could borrow it?"

"What? No!" Christie snatched up the tome, clutching it to her chest as Sarah eyed it.

"Fine. Well, good night. Keep it down won't you."

And with that, Sarah was gone, leaving a very confused and angry Wiccan in her wake.

Sarah closed the door to her room and glanced around. There wasn't sight nor sound of a goblin anywhere but she knew they were in there somewhere. She stood, hands on hips in the centre of the room.

"Right you lot. Out here now. I need to talk to you."

Silence reigned and she raised an eyebrow. "I'm counting down and if you're not in front of me in ten seconds I will get Ludo to call the rocks."

Not three seconds later four rather abashed looking goblins stood in front of her, all staring at their feet. She crouched in front of them, her expression softening.

"Sqeek?"

The goblin in question glanced up at her. "Yes?"

"That book, the old one. Is that what's been scaring you, do you think?"

He nodded quickly. "They's been using it wrong. Do all kinds of damage."

"Damage to what?"

"To goblins. To Labyrinth. To Lady."

Sarah frowned. "How could they do that?"

"Old, powerful magic. Hexes. Curses."

Sarah sighed, he worst suspicions confirmed. So much for a history book. "Have they done any damage yet?"

He shook his head. "Doing them wrong. But getting better."

Dogsthorpe piped up from the end of the line. "That's why we took the shiny rocks."

Bubl nodded in agreement. "For the good of Goblin kind." He paused for a moment and added "And Lady kind."

Sarah stood. "Ok, you need to go find the Goblin King." There was a collective whimper from the assembled goblins and she shook her head. "Go. Tell him I think I might have found the cause of his headaches. That should at least get you in the door. Tell him to meet me here tomorrow evening. Hopefully, he's taken his head out of his ass after all these years."

**A/N: Don't forget to feed the author. She gets little other sustenance.**


	4. This Way Comes

**_Disclaimer_: Labyrinth doesn't belong to me. Any Goblin names or practices mentioned are taken from _The Goblin Companion_ by Brian Froud and Terry Jones.**

**_Authors Note_: So my lovelies, this is the last chapter. Thanks so much for all the reviews and I'm tickled pink that a few actual wiccans are reading this. So enjoy and Happy Halloween. **

**...This Way Comes. **

Sarah groaned as she hung up her coat, shaking the rain water from her hair. The interview... Well, it hadn't been the shining moment she had hoped it would be. First of all, she had slept in due her fitful night, so she hadn't had time to shower. She'd managed to plaster on enough make-up and perfume to hopefully mask her state. Then she hadn't been able to get parking close to the building the interview was in and was soaked in the downpour on the way. She had arrived in looking like a drowned rat and had been too flustered to put together even vaguely coherent sentences.

She shucked off her shoes and shuffled towards the kitchen, intent on putting on the kettle for some kind of hot beverage before she went to get changed. She had completed her mission and was on her way upstairs when she ran into the last person she wanted to see. Christie stood in front of her, the old Underground volume under her arm as she fixed Sarah with her best black look.

"What was that all about last night?"

Sarah considered several answers in her head before settling on "I'm really not in the mood Christie. Can we talk about this another time?" _Like the day after never?_

"No. You interrupted an important ritual, touched my things and then interrogated me. I want to know why?"

"I... I like old books. It looked interesting. I'm doing research for a novel. Pick one."

Christie stepped up, once again invading Sarah's personal space. "I know you're up to something. Are you doing some kind of 'Witches Uncovered' piece or something? Is that it, are you trying to show us all up or reveal our secrets?"

"Secrets? You're wiccans, not a freaking secret society. I can look on line for that kind of stuff."

"I don't trust you."

_And you're bat-shit, cuckoo, coco puffs crazy._ "I really couldn't care less. Can I go now?"

Christie didn't move so Sarah simply stepped around her and made her way to her room. Once the door was closed she allowed herself the luxury of closing her eyes as she rested against it. This really wasn't turning out to be her day.

"This had better be good."

She shrieked and opened her eyes to find a rather smug looking Goblin King lounging on her bed. She grabbed the closest object she could find, a tub of moisturiser, a lobbed it at his head. He ducked to avoid it and scowled.

"Don't do that. You frightened the life out of me."

He grinned at her, all teeth and no eyes. "That was rather the point."

She made a sounds that Jareth fancied as a growl and collapsed into her arm chair. He took a moment to examine her form, which was displayed nicely due to the wet cloths clinging to it. She cracked an eye at him and huffed, crossing her arms over her chest and glaring. He shrugged.

"You called me here Sarah. So, here I am."

"Several hours early."

He dismissed her comment with a wave. "Semantics."

"Fine. Just let me get changed, then we can talk."

"Very well." He didn't move. She glared some more.

"Turn around." Still nothing. "Please."

He ginned again. "There. You see, a few manners never hurt anyone."

He chuckled to himself as he listened to her cursing him under her breath as she changed. He was also smiling because he could see her reflection in the mirror. This was turning out to be a rather good day for him. Unfortunately for him, she turned and caught him before he could blink. This resulted in another heavy object being launched at his head.

"I would really appreciate it if you would stop that. My head is pounding enough all ready. I don't need you to add to it."

To his surprise, Sarah's shoulders slumped and she looked genuinely apologetic. "You're right. I'm sorry. I'm just having a fairly shitty day. I believe I may have found the cause to both our problems."

He sat back on the bed, looking at her expectantly. She joined him reluctantly and he laughed.

"Don't look so worried my dear. You're not running my Labyrinth now. I won't bite... much."

She rolled her eyes and he smiled, genuinely this time. "So, you clearly are aware of my problem, through that bothersome Higgle no doubt. What's your problem?"

Her eyebrows shot up. "You mean you don't know?" He shook his head and waited. Sarah reached back and pulled down her comforter revealing two goblins sleeping soundly on her pillow. It was his turn to look surprised. She covered them back up and turned back to him.

"They won't leave me alone. I mean, I don't mind the odd visit, but this is constant. It's all "for the good of goblin kind" and "we're just here to protect you" and then they steal stuff and get scared. It's like having a dozen drunk toddlers, who try to stab each other in between naps and petty theft."

He frowned. "What do you mean 'protect you'?"

"Well, that's the thing. Does the name Irinu Alae mean anything to you?"

Jareth's eye became comically wide. "How could you possibly know that name?"

"There's a girl who lives here, Christie. She thinks she's a witch. Well, she's a Wiccan. It's a sort of alternative religion. Based on tree hugging, dancing around naked and scarves as far as I can tell. Not something I ever really got into."

"Dancing around naked?"

She shot him a glare. "Anyway, about three months back, Christie picked up this old book in a store somewhere. I saw it last night. It said it was written by someone called Irinu Alae and had all sorts of stuff relating to the Underground in it. I could only figure out a bit but it was enough. She bought it around the same time this lot started bunking down with me. Her, I don't know, coven, I suppose, have been using it in their rituals. Is that about when your headaches started."

Jareth calculated the time difference quickly and nodded. "What exactly have they been doing?"

She shrugged and fell back to rest on her elbows. "Hell if I know. Your goblins here tell me they've been doing it wrong, what ever that means. But if they're messing with proper magic, god knows what's been going on. They keep stealing Christie's crystals and stuff. It's really making my life very difficult."

"I do apologize. Some idiot is meddling with the very essence of magic in the Underground but heavens forbid precious Sarah be inconvenienced."

"Snarky. So, who is this Alae person anyway."

Jareth ignored the first part of her comment. "She was a witch. A very powerful witch. She lived in the Underground during the birth of magic. That volume of her spells and knowledge is the only one in existence. It was stolen from my library about two hundred years ago."

"Any idea how it ended up in a book store in Boston?"

"None. I never caught the culprit."

Sarah bounced up, her hair flying about her, shaking the bed. Jareth flinched and brought a gloved hand to his temple. She winced in sympathy.

"Sorry. So, I was thinking you could pull an ole switcharoo. Magic up some kind of fake copy and swap it out for the original. No harm, no foul."

He raised an eyebrow skeptically. "And why shouldn't I simply reclaim what is rightfully mine?"

"Because Christie is a psycho bitch and will no doubt accuse me of stealing it and continue to make my life a living hell. So, if you could do it without causing me unknown suffering, I would appreciate it."

"And what will you do for me in return?"

"Seriously? I find out the cause of your migraine from hell and you want to bargain?"

He nodded, smirking. Sarah briefly considered smacking the superior look right off his face before deciding she needed him to cooperate.

"What do you want?"

"Dinner."

"Dinner? Do you want me to cook or something because to be honest a toasted sandwich is about as close as I get to gourmet."

"I want you to have dinner with me."

"Um, where?"

"At my castle."

"And that's it? No catch? No twist? Just dinner."

"Upon my honour. Just dinner. Then I will return you here myself."

Sarah searched his eyes, looking for evidence of deceit but found none.

"Alright."

"Excellent." Jareth stood, pulling Sarah with him. "Now, where is this Christie and my book."

"I'll show you. Her room is just down the... Ow!"

Sarah's legs gave out from under her as pain shot through her skull. She would have met the wooden floor with her face had a strong arm not wrapped around her waist. Jareth's face came into her field of vision and it looked concerned. She decided it wasn't a good look for him. His other hand came around to cradle the back of her head as he appeared to search for something.

"Sarah. Sarah look at me. What's wrong?"

She shook her head and whimpered as pain radiated behind her eyes. "I dunno. Hurts. My heads all fuzzy."

Jareth cursed and held Sarah close to his side, keeping her upright. "She's trying to curse you. Badly, I might add, but curse you none the less. Where is she?"

"That bitch."

"Sarah." There was a warning edge to his voice that she didn't like.

"Two doors down on the left."

Her eyes were closed, but Sarah felt the wind rush around them and when she opened her eyes they were in a different room. Christie was sitting cross legged on the floor, chanting unfamiliar words while burning what Sarah recognized as one of her copies of Time Magazine in a silver bowl.

Christie looked up and screamed when she was confronted with the vision of a very pissed off Goblin King. The room grew dark and lightening flashed, despite the fact that it was two in the afternoon. In the back of her pain clouded mind, Sarah couldn't help but be amused by Jareth's flare for the dramatic.

Still cradling Sarah's body to his side, the Goblin King stalked forward to loom over the young woman on the floor.

"Do you have any idea of the powers you are toying with?"

Christie yelped and scuttled backwards but her progress was halted by the wall.

"Foolish girl. You have been playing with things you have no comprehension of, causing havoc in my realm with no thought to the consequences. No thought of the damage you have been doing and now you dare try and curse my friend. Do harm to someone under my protection. I think not."

Christie looked terrified, which amused Sarah, even as she pressed her face into Jareth's shoulder in an attempt to ease the pain in her head.

"I'm sorry. I didn't... Who are you?"

"You know very well who I am."

Sarah realized that he probably wasn't used to this kind of situation and decided to be helpful.

"Actually, she really doesn't. Jareth, Christie. Christie, the Goblin King."

As she returned her head to it's previous position on the Goblin Kings shoulder she felt him huff slightly in consternation. She couldn't help but smile.

Jareth turned on his glower and stared down at the young woman below him. "I believe a little journey through the place you've been disrupting may teach you your lesson."

He waved a hand and she was gone. In a flash he had kicked over the bowl on the floor, stamping on the smouldering contents. The pain in her head disappeared and she slowly disentangled herself from the Goblin King.

"Thanks." She glanced down at the remains of her magazine and scowled. "What a bitch."

Jareth stifled a laugh. "I believe you've already said that."

"Doesn't stop it being true. Did you send her to the Labyrinth?"

He nodded. "I'll instruct my lazy subjects in your room to spread the word about who she is. I imagine she won't be well received. I'm not the only one who's been affected."

Sarah frowned. "They won't hurt her, will they?"

"Of course not. What do you take me for?"

"Hey, I had a run in with the cleaners don't forget."

He scoffed. "I would never have let them get to you."

"It was pretty damn close mister."

"Well, I knew Hobble would help you."

"Liar."

He took a deep breath. "You always do manage to... amplify my reactions."

"Is that a fancy way of saying I make you loose control?"

She had sidled over and was grinning up at him. Very suddenly, he had backed her up against the wall. She sucked in a breath, his face millimetres from hers.

He growled. "Impossible woman."

And then he was gone and a little voice at the back of her head informed her that she was disappointed. She told it to shut up.

"So, dinner."

Her head whipped around. "I'm sorry, what?"

"Our deal."

"Now?"

He simply nodded, holding out a gloved hand for her to take. She glanced down at herself.

"Fine. Just give me a minute to change."

His eyes raked over her, taking in her tight sweat pants and tank top. "I rather like your... attire."

She snorted and headed for the door. "Perv."

§:§

True to his word Jareth delivered Sarah back to her home that evening. She had actually had an excellent time and had told him as such. He had told her not to sound so surprised. She had laughed just before he had kissed her and requested her presence at dinner again the next evening. With a slightly dazed look on her face, she had nodded and he had looked smug. Then, she was alone in the night as an owl hooted in the distance.

She ran in to Christie as she made her way, dreamily, to her room. The other woman had taken one look at her and fled. Sarah stifled a giggle (she did not giggle) and floated down the hallway to her bedroom.

Despite the lack of scary ladies with old, powerful spell books, there were still two goblins snoring at the end of her bed. She slept better that night than she had in months, dreaming of magic, masked balls, goblins and their king.

**A/N: All done. So... Feed me? ... Please?**


End file.
